The Toaster
by hummerhouse
Summary: Don has caught a cold but that needn't mean the lair has to fall apart. One shot.


The Toaster

Don shuffled towards the kitchen, sniffling into a tissue as he walked. Casey had a bad cold and had decided to share it, and while everyone else in his family had eluded the bug, Don had not.

It was his own fault his immune system wasn't working properly and he knew it. With so many projects to be worked on, Don didn't spend nearly enough time resting, and his diet was sketchy at best. Now he was paying the price, knocked down with a fever, he hadn't been out of bed in two days.

He had forced himself to get up this afternoon because he was thirsty, the water bottle next to his bed was empty, and he didn't want to be a big baby and yell for someone to bring him another bottle.

Don told himself to go straight to the kitchen, get his water and go straight back to bed. He was determined not to go near his lab, or to wander into any other space in the lair. Doing so would just remind him of the ten thousand projects sitting around waiting for him to work on, and he simply didn't feel well enough to mess with them, or to deal with the guilt of not messing with them.

Stepping into the kitchen, Don witnessed a scene that completely froze him with shock.

Leonardo was sitting at the table with the toaster in front of him and a screwdriver in his hand. With his tongue caught between his teeth, he was carefully making an adjustment to the insides of the small appliance.

Seated across from him was Raphael, the laptop open on the table in front of him, and a diagram of a toaster on the screen. Mikey was standing between them, bent down with his forearms on the table, clutching various small parts in his hands, including the screws that would eventually hold the toasters body back together.

Don blinked several times and when the scene didn't change, he pinched himself. It hurt.

"Hey, Donny!" Mikey called out, catching a glimpse of his brother. "Whatcha doing out of bed?"

"I c . . . came down for some water," Don stammered out.

"Ya' could have just called one of us ta bring it ta ya'," Raph said. "Ya' really shouldn't be up and around yet. Yo, Mikey, Leo needs the spring for the bread lifter."

"Here bro'," Mikey deftly pulled the correct piece from his hand and turned it over to Leo, who carefully placed it into the toaster assembly.

"I was trying not to be a burden," Don said. "What's going on?"

"What does it look like genius?" Raph asked.

"It looks like Leo's fixing the toaster," Don answered. "But I must be hallucinating."

Mikey chuckled and stood up. Stepping over to Don, he touched the back of his hand to Don's forehead and said, "Nope, you still have a fever, but it's pretty low. You aren't hallucinating."

"But . . . but why?" Don finally managed to spit out.

Leo was carefully reassembling the body as Mikey passed the screws to him.

"We didn't want you jumping out of bed too soon because you were worrying about all the things that needed to be repaired around the lair," Leo explained. "So we decided to tackle a few of the smaller projects ourselves."

"Leo already rewired Master Splinter's favorite reading lamp," Mikey said. "Raph looks up the instructions on the internet, and I track down all the pieces and parts we need. Leo actually does the repair work, 'cause he has a more delicate touch than either of us."

"And voila!" Leo announced with a flourish, waving at the toaster.

Don stared at it in stunned amazement. Every part had been used and the toaster appeared to have been put back together properly.

Mikey grabbed the loaf of bread from the refrigerator and dug out two slices. Leo set the toaster on the kitchen counter, plugged it in and accepted the bread from Mikey.

After a minute, the bread popped up, toasted to a golden brown. Leo placed the toast on a plate and Mikey pushed the plate into a flabbergasted Donatello's hands.

"Eat up brainiac. Ya' ain't put anything in your stomach in two days and ya' need your strength," Raph told him, a complacent smile curving his lips.

"Wow," Don managed to breathe out, "I guess I don't need to be too concerned about getting out of bed for a while longer."

Mikey chuckled. "Well, dude, it would be nice if you slept in and got your health back, but don't start thinking you can lounge around in bed 'til whenever."

Rubbing his head and grinning, Raph said, "Yeah Don, I think after this we sorta have a greater appreciation of what it takes ta' actually fix stuff around here."

Don was laughing as Leo turned him and began pushing him back towards his bedroom. Mikey snatched a bottle of water from the refrigerator and trailed along behind them.

"Does that mean I don't have to worry about being replaced?" Don asked, feeling better than he had in days.

"No one will ever replace you, Donatello," Leo said warmly. "After all, it took all three of us two days just to repair two things. I'd say that was a pretty poor average, wouldn't you?"

"Actually, I'd say that was very remarkable," Don answered in an equally warm tone.


End file.
